


One to protect Charlie

by Carbon65



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: 1909 - 1970s, Adult Children, Canon Compliant, Character Death, F/M, M/M, Post-Canon, So yes, Vaccines, but off screen, newsies family, polio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 07:10:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14183637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carbon65/pseuds/Carbon65
Summary: Daniel grew up knowing that it was different with his dad. For as long as he could remember, he woke up to the quiet tick, tick of his dad moving around the apartment. His dad was always an early riser. Ma liked to lay abed until the sun came up, stealing the last few winks of sleep. But, Dad was always up before dawn, moving as quietly as he could around the apartment.





	One to protect Charlie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tuppenny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuppenny/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Wake Up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13217679) by [tuppenny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuppenny/pseuds/tuppenny). 



> This was inspired by a discussion around [Tuppenny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuppenny/pseuds/tuppenny)’s [_Growing Together Series_](https://archiveofourown.org/series/763230), which you should read. It’s an amazing canon extension and piece of historical fiction. This comes out of a conversation we were having, and the fact that I am spending entirely too much time alone at history museums.
> 
> So, credit to her for basically all the OCs, and this assumes the events up to [Call in the Cavalry.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14143854)

Daniel grew up knowing his dad was different. But, his whole family was different. It took him into his teen years to realize that he and the “Kelly cousins” weren’t actually related by blood. Probably good, because it was really weird when Ellie pulled him back behind the dumpsters when she was 13 and he was 15 and kissed him straight on the lips. Nicky teased them for ages about being kissing cousins, until Uncle Spot sat him down and reminded him that family wasn’t all about blood. ...Uncle Spot could be scary.

Daniel grew up knowing that it was different with his dad. For as long as he could remember, he woke up to the quiet tick, tick of his dad moving around the apartment. His dad was always an early riser. Ma liked to lay abed until the sun came up, stealing the last few winks of sleep. But, Dad was always up before dawn, moving as quietly as he could around the apartment not to disturb her.

As children, they learned to walk after their Dad, holding onto the crossbar of his crutches. (The old picture of the strike Uncle Jack and Aunt Katherine had hanging in their parlor showed a very faded picture of his very young father with a single crude crutch, but for as long as Daniel could remember, he’d used two made from polished wood.) You’d hold Ma’s hand in the street: Ma, or Aunt Kath or Ima Sarah, or… well, one of the other mass of adults who formed the family that raised them all together like something between a litter of puppies and a village. You’d hold Ma’s hand, but you’d always hold the crossbar of Dad’s crutch, matching your pace to his careful steps.

Daniel remembers being small and sitting on the bed with his Dad to do the Stretches. They’d always do them inside, Dad in his drawers and Daniel in his, It didn’t matter if it was sweltering hot and everyone else was out on the old tar roof, trying to cool off or get sleep in the heat. It didn’t matter that Mrs. Miller and Mr. Angeletti or old widow Golden said things about it. They always did it indoors. Daniel remembers the way his Dad’s legs looked: thin, mostly, with the bones showing where the muscles were gone. Dad had a few muscles: his lower calf, and a few in his thigh. It was part of why his foot turned in: the muscle on the outside was long, and the muscle on the inside was short, and it pulled his foot around. He could feel the stretches, he’d wince a little when he did them, or when the weather was bad.

Dad’s keg could feel it, when you stuck pins in. Not like Uncle Jojo’s leg after the War. Of course, Uncle Jojo’s leg had been wood, and Dad’s wasn’t, but it still was different. (Daniel had only tried either once, on a dare from Nicky. The Uncles had taken him out for a series of quiet, tense, Adult Talks that were serious for an eleven year old. He didn’t do it again, and neither did the gaggle of kids who came after. Daniel knew it was his job to tell them, as the Oldest.) Daniel and his Dad would sit on the bed, and stretch their feet and their ankles. As they got older, Dad would sigh and rub the strong smelling liniment into his hips and knees and ankles, and then ruffle Daniel’s hair and tell him not to get old. And Daniel would laugh and tell his dad that he wasn’t old, not really. Uncle Spot was old, he had gray hair! And, his dad would chuckle and say that he was older than Uncle Spot, it’s just that they’d had different paths.

 

Daniel was nine when he learned the name. He might have it in passing before, a word between his parents or between his uncles. He knew his classmates were slipping away during the summer, some returning with weakened arms, or legs in braces, and some of them never returning to school at all. It had a name - Daniel knew it had to have a name, because monsters had to have a name - he just didn’t know what it was. The adults wouldn’t say. The Uncles always talked about it in whispers.

And, like almost everything in his life worth knowing, Daniel learned the name from the newspaper. His dad was partial to _The World_ and _The Sun_ , because of history that The Uncles keep trying to tell Daniel, but had never quite turned into a coherent story without arguments and overlapping voices. Dad doesn’t talk about it. Not at all. Not ever. There’s the faded picture in Uncle Jack and Aunt Katherine’s parlor, and the letter tucked away in the drawer along with the newspaper clippings. Uncle Jack would tell the story, if you got him in the right mood all alone. But, Dad just turned away when someone mentioned it, and went into another room, and shut the door. Sometimes, Ma or Uncle Jack or Uncle Spot would go after him, and their words are too muffled for Daniel or the kids to hear. The Refuge, he thought. But, that thing that happened so long ago was why Dad liked _The World_ and _The Sun_. Or, that was why Dad is scared of _The World_ and _The Sun_. Daniel wasn’t sure if it mattered which it was. And, while Dad had a preference, he’d settle for any old paper, as long as a newsies was selling it. And so, they’d go through New York collecting them all: _The World_ , _The Sun_ , _The Times_ , _The Journal_ , and _The Post_.

It was hot July when Daniel found it, nearly the fourth. They were celebrating with fireworks on the roof, and a watermelon that Uncle Spot bought at the market and Daniel carried home for him, because his hand was shaking too much that day to be able to manage it. It was heavy, but Daniel was big enough! And, on Friday, when Uncle Race had the day off, he’d promised to take them to the theater to see Charlie Chaplin! Charlie Chaplin was Daniel’s favorite: he knew it was childish, but he had the same name as Dad. 

But, in between the pages of the news about The War that the adults talk about in hushed tones, Daniel found a slip of paper: The Announcement. 

“BAR ALL CHILDREN FROM THE MOVIES” the headline blared. “Health Order Applies to Persons Less Than 16 years. 72 NEW CASES IN THE CITY. 23 DEATHS OCCURED HERE AND TWO DIED AT BEACON, NY.” 

That summer, the city shut down. Children weren’t allowed to go to swimming pools, or movie theaters. Aunt Katherine argued with her mother about whether or not to send the kids out of the city, and in the end, the Kelly cousins disappeared off to the country. They stayed, Daniel and his brothers and sisters, but Dad didn’t go out as much, just went up to the roof to sit. Uncle Jack came over a lot, and sometimes Uncle Race or Uncle Spot, and they’d talk and smoke and play cards. That was the summer Daniel learned how to fake a cough, how to cheat at poker, and about the time Uncle Jack escaped the Refuge on the back of Teddy Roosevelt's carriage.

And, no one said it, but Daniel knew it was what happened to his Dad: Infantile Paralysis. And, even though Daniel didn’t say it, sometimes, late at night, tucked between his brothers in the big bed, that he worried he’d catch it to. Dad didn’t say anything, just looked sad, when Daniel stopped hugging him quite so much that summer.

 

Every summer after that, the specter of infantile paralysis loomed. And, every summer after that, Dad got quiet. Not quite like when the strike got mentioned, a different kid of quiet. His eyes sparkled a little bit less, and his jokes were a little bit more strained. But, he was Dad, he was Daniel’s dad, and that’s what mattered. They still shopped together, Daniel carrying the bags and parcels home from the corner store because he had free hands and Dad didn’t. And, they’d talk about what it means to be a man. And how to do arithmetic and accounting. And, when there were other things that Daniel needed to learn, like how to throw a baseball, or how to talk to a pretty girl, or how to write a thank you letter, Dad ruffled his hair and shipped him off to one of the Uncles, who had always been better at that sort of thing, anyway.

 

Daniel remembers every time he’s seen his dad cry. When they sent Uncle Romeo home, in the box. That year he was eleven and Uncle Jack got sick and they thought he was going to die. And, when Ma had that difficult pregnancy and they lost the baby. When he was older: at his wedding, and his sisters’, when Dad had danced with them, leaning heavily on his daughters and daughters in law for support. And when the papers announced that President Roosevelt had established the March of Dimes and promised a way to help cure Infantile Paralysis. Dad sent Daniel out to get every paper he could, and laid them out on the table. He read them, read each one, and then cried. And, couldn't stop. And then, Ma cried. And oh, Ma was a crier, but not like this.

And then, Uncle Jack and Aunt Katherine and Uncle Spot and Uncle Race came over. And, they cried together. Jack pulled Dad up into a hug, helping his stand and then carefully settling him back to the couch. Dad wasn’t so strong anymore, and the comforting click-click of crutches in the morning from Daniel’s childhood had been replaced by stifled moans and quick footsteps when Ma brought hot water bottles and aspirin.

Dad sent money - he and Ma sent all they could spare. Over the years, Daniel had watched Ma and Dad help as much as they could. When things were good, after the scare was over and the quarantine was lifted, Ma would send Daniel or the girls over with a shepherd's pie or a loaf of bread so the poor family didn’t have to think about cooking for a while. And, when things were bad, and there was barely money, and his parents and the Uncles went back to practically living on top of each other until Aunt Katherine and Uncle Race got in the argument to end all arguments and Aunt Katherine and Uncle Jack moved into their own cramped place, even then, Ma would slip a penny of two in whenever there was a collection for an iron lung or calipers for some child in the parish. And, when there was no money at all, Uncle Jack would help Dad over to the house to talk with the family and promise them that not everything was lost.

 

Daniel remembers the day that the news came that Jonas Salk had found a vaccine. He and Ma screamed and cried, and went to Uncle Jack and Aunt Katherine’s to celebrate. Race breaks out the cigars, his had cupping around Uncle Spot’s trembling fingers to help the other man bring it to his mouth.

And then they ran to the graveyard, to cry, and cling, and celebrate the news again. It was hard to think how much Dad would have loved this - a vaccine, finally. Maybe not a cure, but a vaccine! No more lost childhoods, no more iron lung collections or calipers. No more toddlers clinging to the handles of crutches. No more polio!

 

Daniel balances a listless five year old on his hip, her rayon dress riding up her leg, as he lays a sugar cube on his Dad’s grave, and places one beside it, on his mom’s. He kisses the blonde thatch of the child he’s carrying. “One of great granddad, and one for great grandma, and one to protect Charlie.”

**Author's Note:**

> The New York Times announcement and the polio outbreak in 1916 were real events. Movie theaters and swimming pools were closed, and some towns barred children under the age of 16.
> 
> Jonas Salk announced the polio vaccine in 1953. It came into widespread use in 1955. An oral vaccine (delivered by sugarcube) was licensed in 1962. The vaccination effort was so effective in the US, the last case of polio transmission was in 1979, according to Wikipedia. Polio eradication efforts are ongoing. As of the publication of this in April 2018, there have been 9 new polio cases globally in 2018. The goal is to eradicate polio globally by the end of this year, consigning it to the annals of history with smallpox. 
> 
> My pseudo immunologist PSA is that you can help that effort (and you know, Crutchie's legacy, if I can be so bold), but vaccinating yourself, your children if you have them, and encouraging vaccination for the people around you. And, if you need to talk about why the Wakefield study was BS, please come yell at me about stats, biochemistry, or why grad school is a valid by questionable life choice.


End file.
